


Commencement Exercises

by HaniTrash



Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Anal Fingering, Bottom Steve Rogers, Graduate School, Graduate Student Bucky, M/M, Minor age difference, Mutual Pining, Overstimulation, Porn With Plot, Porn with Feelings, Professor Steve Rogers, Rimming, Steve Rogers Cries, but who am I kidding?, this was supposed to be just porn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-03
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:07:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24525886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HaniTrash/pseuds/HaniTrash
Summary: Bucky Barnes is in his doctoral program, just days from graduation. Steve Rogers is his professor, and the source of every fantasy Bucky has had for the last two years since he became Bucky's advisor. When he goes to Steve's house for one last meeting before his presentation and defense for his dissertation, he certainly isn't expecting to end up spending the night fucking Steve senseless.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers
Comments: 68
Kudos: 578





	Commencement Exercises

**Author's Note:**

> many thanks (???) to cantabile_l for the idea for this fic, which blew up beyond a short ficlet for the porn archive and now is posted here, lol. there's a link at the end that will take you to the chapter of the archive piece for this story with accompanying images ;)

It's not the first time that Bucky has gone over to Professor Rogers’ house. As his TA, they've spent many evenings and weekends together grading papers and discussing lesson plans. Plus, he's also Bucky's advisor as he works towards his doctoral degree, so they’ve spent plenty of time discussing Bucky’s schooling and his plans for the future. For Steve—and at some point over the last two years of being both Bucky’s teacher and mentor he’d simply become _Steve_ and not _Doctor Rogers_ —to ask him to come by on a Saturday evening is not something new. Arriving to find the man in the middle of making dinner meant clearly for two people, when he knows Steve is single, _is_ new, however. Maybe the man has a date? And if so—well, Bucky will just ignore the twinge of jealousy that arises at that thought.

"What's all this? Did I get the time wrong?"

"Hey, Buck. No, you're right on time. I wanted to surprise you. The year’s nearly done. You've done a hell of a job. Best assistant I've ever had, I'll be sorry to lose you to graduation. I didn't take it easy on you, either, with your dissertation. Yet you exceeded my expectations there, too. Figured you deserved a reward."

“I…oh. Uh, thanks?”

Steve chuckles softly, and Bucky doesn’t miss the way the man’s eyes trail over Bucky’s body before he speaks again.

“I’m not keeping you from anything, am I? Did you have plans tonight? A date? A pre-graduation party?”

Bucky clears his throat and scuffs his foot over the cool marble tile of the kitchen floor—Steve is a ‘no shoes in the house’ kind of guy, so once Bucky had let himself in the front door, his boots had taken their usual place next to Steve’s leather shoes on the mat in the hallway.

“No, no plans. My defense is on Monday, so…” Bucky shrugs, lets the words trail off. He has no way to explain why he’s dressed in designer jeans and a button-down dress shirt with a tee underneath, all of it just the right side of fitted, other than he wanted to look good for the man.

“That’s good. I thought maybe…you look nice, is all. Always do,” Steve rushes to add, and then seems to backtrack a bit. “I just didn’t want to be ruining any plans you might’ve had.”

The only plans Bucky has all center on finding a way to get into Steve’s pants before they part ways for the summer, but he can’t exactly just come right out and say that. At least, not verbally.

“Nah, s’all good. Anything I can help with?” he goes for instead, standing perhaps a little closer than necessary to Steve at the stove. “It smells amazing. Whatcha making for me?”

He sees the way Steve’s lips part slightly as he takes a deep breath, and his eyelids—with those obscenely long lashes hiding behind his glasses—flutter before he answers.

“Fettuccine alfredo with chicken. Nothing fancy.”

Bucky is feeling particularly bold, because if anything, Steve’s ‘down to fuck’ and ‘desperately need a cock in my ass’ vibes had only gotten stronger as the semester had gone on, so he dips a finger into the sauce pan and brings it to his lips.

“ _Mmm_ ,” he says, locking eyes with Steve. “I love thick and creamy sauces.”

“Wine,” Steve whispers, his eyes falling to Bucky’s mouth, where his finger lingers on his bottom lip. Bucky smirks, has to fight back a laugh at his own horrible line and how much it affected Steve anyway. He’s never had to beat someone over the head before with the flirting and the innuendo, but Steve is trying so damned hard to keep things _appropriate_ , like they’re not both grown men well aware of their own minds and capable of making rational decisions.

“Wine’s not a sauce, Steve.”

Steve clears his throat and speaks again, gaze still on Bucky’s mouth.

“Help. You wanted to know if you could. So, wine. We need some. If…if you want that to drink, that is.”

“I’ll drink whatever you want me to, Steve.”

_“Jesus,”_ Steve exhales.

Bucky laughs as he heads over to the wine rack on the far wall.

“Am I picking something from here? Or is there a particular bottle you’d like?”

“In the wine fridge. There’s a bottle of sparkling rosé chilling. That’s…if you’re not particular to a certain type, that’s the best one to go with this meal. It’s crisp and bright, and will help break up the earthiness from the truffles and the fat of the sauce. So the acidity of the pinot noir grapes and the bubbles will help keep the meal from being too rich and over-filling.”

“Truffles?”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’ve got black truffles to put on top.”

“Sounds awfully fancy to me, Steve.” _And expensive_ , he doesn’t add.

Steve lifts one large shoulder in a shrug and turns back to the stove.

“I wanted some truffles. But I’d rather share it with someone, so I’m not trying to eat the whole thing myself within a few days. Even _my_ tastes aren’t that expensive,” he adds with a self-deprecating laugh.

“I don’t know. You seem to have excellent taste from what I’ve seen.”

“You never met my ex.”

“I could say the same. Either way, you seem to have stepped up your game since then, whatever happened.”

Steve blatantly eyes Bucky again as he heads for the table with the wine bottle and pops it open.

“Yeah, you could probably say I have.”

Bucky fills the glasses and sets the bottle down, keeping his expression carefully neutral. He knows that Steve is in his late thirties. Bucky doesn’t really care about the age difference; he’s over thirty himself. But with his age and position, Steve knows the need for caution. Bucky can literally see the man fighting himself over what he wants and what he thinks he shouldn’t do. Technically, there’s another week before Bucky graduates, assuming he passes his defense, and then they’ll be co-workers. The university has hired him on as an undergrad teacher for the fall pending successful graduation, and considering that he’s carrying a 3.99 GPA—and seriously, _fuck_ Dr. Pierce for that A-minus last year that fucked over his five-year 4.0 streak—he doesn’t see how that won’t happen. There’s no rules about co-workers dating, but as of this moment, Steve technically is still his teacher. Not that Bucky really cares about any of that. He just needs to convince Steve that it’s okay.

He’s caught Steve looking more than once recently—glances from the corner of his eye, lids lowered so he’s looking up at Bucky through the heavy sweep of those lashes, sitting closer to each other than necessary when they’re working on lessons, hell there’s even been a few late nights in the past month at Steve’s home where the man wore nothing but a t-shirt and low-slung sweats that showed he _clearly_ was going commando underneath.

“Steve,” he says, voice soft, as he rejoins him at the stove once more. “Are we really going to torture ourselves over seven stupid days?” He places one hand lightly on the small of Steve’s back, and Steve nearly jumps out of his skin as he turns to look at Bucky. “Why did you _really_ invite me here tonight, sweetheart?” he asks, leaning in further. He’s taking a huge risk with the _sweetheart_ , he knows that, but he also doesn’t think he’s wrong.

“Bucky, we…we shouldn’t…”

“Who’s going to find out? There are no more classes. The finals are graded. The grades are submitted. All that’s left is my presentation and defense.”

Steve makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, and Bucky knows the man’s resolve is nearly broken.

“But dinner…”

Bucky plasters his most charming smile on his face. “Oh, I would feel terrible if all your hard work went to waste. It’s been a long time since anyone cooked a special dinner just for me. So first we eat dinner. And then I’ll eat you.”

Steve moans into his mouth as Bucky closes the distance between them and finally— _finally_ —gets his lips onto Steve’s full ones. He’s only been dreaming about this and jacking off to fantasies of this man for two years since he’d switched advisors and started working with Steve. Steve clings to him, whimpers as Bucky moves them back, cages Steve against the counter.

“Bucky,” Steve gasps.

“You can tell me to stop if I’m wrong about this—” Bucky grinds his hips against Steve’s and feels the hard press of Steve’s erection alongside his own, “—but I don’t think I am. I think you want my cock so deep inside you that you’ll be feeling it for a week.”

“God, no, don’t stop…” Steve buries his hands in Bucky’s hair, pulls him back in for a searing kiss. Bucky licks into Steve’s mouth, and even though Steve has a few inches of height on him, he melts into Bucky, until Bucky is leaning over him, has Steve bent back over the counter, putty in his hands.

“If I don’t stop now,” he breathes, rubbing his cheek over the soft hair covering Steve’s jaw, “we’ll skip straight to dessert.”

Steve sucks in a shaky breath, chest heaving as he pants. “Christ, you really know how to kiss.”

“I know how to do more than that really well too, sweetheart. And I’m willing to show you all of it. But what do you say we eat this fancy-ass dinner you made first? I already poured the wine.”

_“You_ kissed _me,_ jerk.”

“Because you were jumpier than a long-tailed cat in a room full of rocking chairs. I had to do _something_ to calm you down and help you focus.”

Steve smiles up at him. “Let me up before dinner really is ruined. We can resume this discussion after we’ve eaten.”

*** 

Dinner is filled with knowing glances, coy smiles, and very little actual conversation. Bucky is almost a bit disappointed for the distraction of knowing what’s to come; he’s never had truffles before and would like to be able to remember the taste and texture of them on his tongue, but all he can recall is the feel of Steve’s lips, soft and yielding beneath his, the wet heat of his mouth, the slide of his tongue. Cleanup goes much the same, except with the added element of touch: the bumping of hips, or a light brushing of hands as they clear the table, load the dishwasher, wipe down the counters and stove.

Bucky splits the last of the wine between them, the effervescent tingling on his tongue doing nothing to match the buzzing of excitement burning through his limbs.

Steve clears his throat and looks to the fridge, then back to Bucky. “There is dessert…”

“There is. Right here,” Bucky agrees, once again crowding Steve against the counter. 

“God, are we really doing this?”

“Unless you tell me to stop, sweetheart,” he answers, nosing along the column of Steve’s neck, brushing his lips over the pulse pounding beneath the skin. “Otherwise I don’t plan on stopping until you’re a shaking, sobbing mess beneath me. I get the feeling that it’s been a long time since you’ve been thoroughly fucked.”

Steve whimpers, the sound high and soft and catching in the back of his throat as he arches into Bucky, baring his neck.

“Please,” he begs with a shaky whisper, and Bucky laughs softly.

“Sweetheart, if I’d known how sweet you’d be for me, I’d have stepped up my game much sooner. Shall we head upstairs? And maybe after all this time I’ll see more than three rooms of your house?”

Steve gives him a shy smile. “I have a confession to make first. I…I haven’t been with anyone since the divorce. And even then, we hadn’t been together for probably a year prior to that.”

“Steve…you told me you’ve been divorced for almost five years. Are you telling me you haven’t had sex in six years?” Bucky stares incredulously at Steve as he nods his head. “How is that even fucking possible? Looking the way you do? How have you not had dates? Relationships?”

Steve’s cheeks flame red as he ducks his head. “I had a few dates, after a while. But I just didn’t really feel any connection, no desire to take things to that level. One day I met this amazing guy on campus and I fell really hard for him…”

“And what happened there?”

“Things never really had a chance to go anywhere. I think, for a while, he thought I was straight. But one night we happened to both be at the same bar watching the same baseball game, and I had a few too many and we flirted a bit. After that things changed between us. But, still, nothing happened. I was afraid of ruining our friendship so I never tried to take it anywhere beyond that. Plus, he was a student, and I’d only just gotten tenure when we first met, so I was extremely concerned about keeping it as profess—”

Bucky cuts Steve off with a blistering kiss, one hand palming Steve’s ass, the other cupping the back of his head as he pulls their bodies flush.

“—Professional as I could,” Steve finishes, gasping for breath once they part. “At least until he finished his doctoral program.”

“ _Steve_. I fucking swear to _god_ , if you don’t take me to your bedroom _now_ , I will bend you over this counter and fuck you right here in this kitchen. Fuck, I might just do that anyway. I’m still young enough to get it up a second time tonight.”

“Fucking hell. I was so worried you’d assume I wanted to top just because I’m older. God. You’re like a dream come true.” Steve’s hands cup Bucky’s face, thumbs stroking over his cheekbones as he looks adoringly up at him.

Bucky laughs, presses a kiss to the tip of Steve’s nose, and starts moving backwards, dragging Steve toward the stairs by the hand.

“Oh my god you’re hilarious. What on earth made you think you give off a top vibe? And what does age matter about that?” he asks between stopping and pulling him in for kisses.

Steve has been flipping light switches as they go, and now he pauses by the door with his hand over the alarm keypad. He looks back to Bucky, a hopeful expression on his face.

“Will you stay? After…”

“I’m a bit offended that you think I wouldn’t. That I don’t want to.”

“I just didn’t want to assume…”

“Hey, c’mere.” Steve comes willingly, his hands settling naturally on Bucky’s hips as Bucky sets his on Steve’s shoulders. Bucky makes firm eye contact, wanting to make sure Steve doesn’t miss a single word. “I have wanted you from the day I met you. I have spent the last two years dreaming about this moment. Just because I’m younger—and not even by a lot, mind you, it’s only like six years—doesn’t mean I’m gonna take off as soon as I get my rocks off. I’m here for as long as you want me. After all, I’ll need a buddy to help me through my first year of teaching, right?”

Steve’s eyes light up as his arms tighten around Bucky’s waist and pull him in. They start to head backwards, towards the stairs once more, when Bucky breaks the kiss with a laugh.

“We’ve got all night for kissing, sweetheart. Set the alarm.”

Steve blushes and trails his thumb along Bucky’s bottom lip. “Do you have any idea how much time I spend staring at your mouth? You bite this lip so often and it distracts me so much every time… I could definitely spend the night kissing you.” He presses a chaste peck to Bucky’s lips before turning back to the alarm. Bucky climbs the stairs while he does, knowing that it’ll take them another ten minutes to get to the second floor if he gets his mouth on Steve’s again right now. Steve joins him and takes his hand, leads him down the hall. The main floor of Steve’s house includes his home office/library in addition to the usual rooms one expects. Upstairs, Bucky catches a glimpse of what appears to be a guest room and another that looks to be an art studio, before Steve is pulling him into the master bedroom. A very large bed dominates one wall, and he spies an attached bathroom through an open door. The room faces the back yard, and through a set of French doors he sees a deck and—

“Steve, you’ve been holding out on me!”

“What? Oh, that. Yeah.”

“And to think, we could have been discussing lesson plans while relaxing in your _hot tub_ . Or the _inground pool_ I see out there. Shit, how much do they pay tenure-track professors? I’m getting squat as a first-year.”

“Nah, it’s not that. I have a really shitty ex and a really, really good divorce lawyer.”

“I see.”

“Can we… I’ll tell you all about it if you want. Well, as much as I’m allowed to. Just, maybe not right now?” Steve joins him near the doors to the deck and wraps his arms around Bucky’s waist. “It’s a huge mood killer. And I really don’t want to ruin this.”

“Of course, sweetheart. I’m sorry. I know it’s not really any of my business.”

Steve hums, a contemplative noise. “I mean, I’d _like_ for it to be your business. But right now, I think I’ve let my past keep me from trusting someone again for long enough. And I think I’ve been waiting to have you in my bed for long enough. So what do you say we get rid of these clothes?”

“That sounds like an excellent idea.” Bucky dips his head to nuzzle along Steve’s neck, but groans when a thought occurs to him. “Shit. Wait. If you haven’t been dating all this time, do you have anything? Lube? Condoms? I didn’t bring anything with me. Wasn’t expecting this tonight.”

Steve’s face turns a hilarious shade of red. “So. Um. When you order…things…from certain…websites…they send condoms and little lube packets with them. And, uh, I was _hoping_ that we might get to this point in the next week or so, and so I, um, bought some as well. And then I got some latex-free ones, just in case. But. I, uh, have plenty of lube. For the…” Steve trails off, waving his hand in a dismissive gesture.

“You tryin’ to tell me that you got a drawer full of toys, sweetheart?”

Steve takes a deep breath and squares his shoulders.

“You know what? I’m almost forty years old. I have no need to be ashamed of this. Yes. I do. I have _so many_ dildos and vibrators and other things that you’ll be amazed.”

Bucky throws his head back and laughs heartily. “Well okay then. Good to know that you’re prepared.” He reaches down, grabbing Steve’s ass with both hands and squeezing tightly. “I hope I can live up to what you’ve gotten used to.”

“I’ve got plenty of condoms. You can keep trying until you get it right.”

Bucky lifts Steve with a growl. The man isn’t slight, not by any stretch of the word, but Bucky takes full advantage of the gym on campus and works out several times a week. Steve gasps and shifts his arms to hold around Bucky’s neck as Bucky guides Steve’s legs around his waist.

“Only going to need one to make you scream my name, sweetheart.”

Steve moans and presses his forehead against Bucky’s. “Honestly, it’s been so long since another person touched me, I probably won’t last very long.”

“Oh don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ll take good care of you.”

Bucky carries Steve the short distance to the bed and lays on top of him, keeping their bodies locked together as their mouths meet once more.

“The things I want to do to you,” he murmurs, dragging his teeth along the shell of an ear. “Bet you’re real pretty when you beg and cry for it.” A shudder runs through Steve and Bucky grins against his neck. “You want me to make you cry, sweet thing? See how long I can hold you at the edge?”

“Touch me,” Steve begs, voice shaky. “Please.”

“I am touching you, sweetheart.”

“Not— _skin_. Please. Clothes _off.”_

“You think that’s gonna make me move any faster?”

“ _Bucky. Please.”_

“Mmm, already begging. I love it.” He slides down Steve’s torso and pushes up the soft cashmere sweater, trailing kisses along the bare skin that’s revealed as it goes. “You have been—” _kiss_ “—wearing tighter—” _lick_ “—and tighter—” _bite_ “—shirts—” _suck_ “—and pants—” _lick_ “—to class—” _kiss_ “—and tonight, you wear this?” Bucky latches onto a nipple, sucks and nibbles at it until it’s flushed and hard and Steve is squirming beneath him. “Tormenting me. For _months_ . And now, I show up here, to find you in jeans that hug your ass beautifully, and a fucking _cashmere sweater_ that does _nothing_ to hide your arms?” He moves up, following the path of the sweater as it disappears from Steve’s body, and catches his mouth in a kiss the moment his head is free.

“You’re one to talk,” Steve manages between kisses. “Are these jeans fucking _painted_ on?” Long fingers make short work of the buttons on Bucky’s shirt and he’s barely gotten it off before Steve’s hands are under his t-shirt, mapping the planes of his muscles as he shoves it up Bucky’s chest.

“Fuck, _look_ at you,” Steve groans.

“You certainly aren’t so bad yourself, baby. Look at these fucking _tits_.” Steve laughs as Bucky kneads his chest. “God. I just want to mark you up. Claim you. Have you walk into that auditorium on Monday and let everyone see, let them wonder, and know _I_ did that to you. That you’re _mine_.” 

Steve whimpers and rolls his hips, grinds against Bucky where they’re still joined.

“You like that idea, baby? Like knowing someone wants you that much?”

Bucky bites down hard on Steve’s left pec and Steve cries out, one hand fisted tightly in Bucky’s hair, the other gripping firmly at his bicep as he squirms while Bucky sucks a bruise into his skin.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll keep ’em where you can hide them,” he says, pulling back to admire his work. Steve takes advantage of the space between them to reach for Bucky’s pants. He gets them open and shoves inside, wraps his hand around his cock. Bucky groans and rocks into the touch as Steve uses the hand still in his hair to pull him back in for another kiss.

“Stop fucking _talking_ ,” Steve growls, “and get the rest of these fucking clothes _off_!”

Bucky grins and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth as he braces himself on one arm and works his pants down over his hips with the other. Steve removes his hand from Bucky’s cock to help him, and once they’re down far enough Steve starts using his legs to help push them the rest of the way off. When Steve starts to reach for his own pants, Bucky grabs his wrist and pulls his arm away. His protests cut off when Bucky shifts position to reach for the button of Steve’s pants himself.

Slowly Bucky pulls them down, dragging his underwear with them, and pauses once Steve’s cock is free to lick a single line along the underside from base to tip.

“Middle drawer,” Steve pants, pointing toward the night stand on the far side of the bed. Bucky clucks his tongue, makes a tsk-ing noise.

“So impatient,” he chides, shaking his head as he kisses his way up one well-toned thigh. “Told you I was going to take care of you, didn’t I? Relax, sweetheart.” He turns his attention to the other leg, stopping once again just shy of taking Steve’s cock in his mouth. Bucky looks up the line of Steve’s body, sees the slight tremble in the tight muscles of his abdomen as Bucky noses along his sack, and hears the whimper when Bucky leaves teasing licks along his perineum. Steve bites his bottom lip and drops his head back.

“Hey, look at me, baby.” Steve sucks in a breath and forces himself back up to his elbows. “Tell me something, Stevie. Anyone ever eat this sweet hole out for you?” Steve makes a gutted sound, and his cock jerks as he shakes his head. Bucky gently pushes Steve’s thighs open wider and teases a finger along the ring of tight muscle, circling it slowly. “That’s a shame. Pretty little thing like this deserves some loving too, don’t you think?”

Steve keens when Bucky replaces his finger with his tongue, falls to his back, and tightens his legs around Bucky’s shoulders.

“Oh sweetheart. Shh. It’s okay,” Bucky soothes between kisses and licks. “I’ve got you, baby.” He guides Steve’s legs open again and drags the flat of his tongue over Steve’s hole, uses his thumbs to keep Steve spread wide, and coaxes the muscle to relax. “There you go, baby. Let me in,” he coos, pressing the tip of a thumb in.

“Oh god, Bucky, Bucky, fuck, oh honey…”

Bucky uses his thumbs to pull Steve further open and licks in, fucks into Steve with his tongue until he’s wet enough for Bucky to add first one, and then a second finger, while he continues to lick and suck and bite to the chorus of moans and whimpers and half-formed words falling from Steve’s lips.

“Fuck, Bucky stop, _stop_ , I’m gonna come, _Bucky!”_ Steve squirms and writhes, tries to get away from him, and Bucky pulls back, leaves his fingers inside but holds them still as he laves kisses and nips all along the inside of Steve’s thighs. Steve is breathing heavily, hands fisted tightly in the blanket as he clenches and pulses around Bucky’s fingers, a fine sheen of sweat covering his body.

“What if I want you to come, sweetheart?”

“Please. I want— _need_ —to have you inside me. _Please_. Want to come with your cock in me.”

Bucky groans and trails his tongue along the line of hair below Steve’s navel. “How can I say no to that, hmm?” He takes his time regardless, kisses his way up to Steve’s chest and teases his nipples with teeth and tongue as he slides his fingers out and takes Steve’s cock in hand. Steve’s hips thrust into the touch and he rocks in time with Bucky’s strokes until he gasps and shoves Bucky off him.

“Condoms. Lube. _Now.”_ Steve’s chest heaves like he’s just run a marathon, and he’s got a death grip around the base of his cock. Bucky bites back a smirk as he rolls to retrieve the items. Steve had been right, he’s suitably impressed at the collection of toys, even with just a quick glance while he’s grabbing the bottle of lube and a strip of condoms, and he’s definitely going to explore Steve’s willingness to play at a later date.

He settles between Steve’s legs once more, this time on his knees. Bucky gets a condom on before he pops open the bottle of lube and slicks up his fingers. He’d gotten Steve loosened up, but he definitely needed to lube him up because Bucky absolutely _refused_ to hurt Steve, especially if he hadn’t had anything besides toys inside him in over half a decade, and spit was not enough. He teases along the edges of Steve’s rim before slipping a finger right in, and they groan in unison. Bucky quickly adds a second before he slips a third in for a few thrusts.

“God _damn_ it, Bucky!” Steve pants. Bucky withdraws his hand and wipes his fingers on his cock as he shuffles closer to Steve and lines up, stops short of pressing inside. Steve might be the one making all the noise, but Bucky is just as affected as the older man. He feels like he’s just won the lottery, because there’s _no way_ this is actually happening. He can’t possibly be about to fuck Steve, the man—the _teacher,_ his _professor,_ his _advisor and mentor_ —that he’s been pining over for two-plus years, doesn’t have him already halfway fucked out beneath him. He doesn’t have this kind of luck. He doesn’t end up with the good guys, he gets the psychotic assholes.

Some of this must show on his face, because Steve pulls at his arm, tugs him down until their foreheads touch. Steve angles his hips up and hooks his legs around Bucky’s, and they stare into each other’s eyes as Bucky slowly pushes in. He lets his eyes close as he bottoms out and they remain locked together like that for a few moments, sharing the same breaths as the air around them grows thick with anticipation. He wonders how cliched it would be if he told Steve he loved him, if Steve would know it wasn’t something being said just in the heat of the moment, if he’d say it back.

“You gonna move there, honey?” Steve asks, hands running up and down Bucky’s back.

“You ain’t the only one who’s close here, sweetheart. It hasn’t been six years, but it’s been a damn good while for me, too.”

Bucky opens his eyes to stare again into the endless blue of Steve’s eyes. His pupils are dilated, blown wide with lust and desire, and their faces are so close to each other that he can practically feel the brush of those lashes when he blinks. Steve cups one hand along Bucky’s jaw and closes the distance between them, pulls him in for a kiss, and Bucky lets the motion flow through his entire body, rolls his hips minutely, letting Steve’s body adjust to him.

“Bucky,” Steve breathes, and the way his name passes through those lips, swollen from kisses and bites, is nothing short of reverent and the sound wraps itself around Bucky’s core, feeds the fire already burning there for this man. They rock together, slowly increasing their pace, swallowing each other’s gasps and moans with kisses until they can’t, until Bucky is pulling nearly all the way out with each roll of his hips, driving back in with enough force that Steve has a hand thrown above his head to brace against the headboard.

Bucky shifts, up onto his knees, hands gripping tight onto Steve’s hips as he holds him up. Steve throws his other arm up for support, pressing his shoulders into the mattress as his back arches up into Bucky’s hold.

“Fuck, god, _yes_ , fuck you feel so good, shit, I’m gonna—so close—fuck, yes, right there, oh god, yes—”

“That’s it, baby, give it to me, come for me sweetheart, let me see it—”

“ _Fuck!”_ Steve’s body goes rigid, veins standing out in sharp relief on his arms and neck as he shouts, a primal cry tearing from his throat as he comes. The moment he tenses, Bucky slows to a deep grind and slaps a hand over the base of Steve’s cock, holding him flush against his body as he fucks Steve through the orgasm, wrings every bit of come out that he can. When his cock stops pulsing and twitching and Steve is whimpering from the overstimulation of Bucky’s movement inside him, Bucky stills and bends down, licks every drop of come from where he’d caught it all on Steve’s stomach.

“Jesus,” Steve exhales, breath as shaky as his body.

Bucky chuckles as he carefully pulls out and lets Steve down.

“Roll over, baby.”

Steve’s eyes quickly dart down to Bucky’s cock and widen when he sees that Bucky is still hard. “Oh.”

“Think you can take a little more, sweetheart?”

“Don’t know how well I’ll be moving tomorrow, but there’s no way that answer is going to be _no_.”

Bucky laughs as he paws through the mess of the blanket to find the lube while Steve rolls over and _presents_ his ass to Bucky, hips up and shoulders down, braced on his forearms with a pile of pillows between him and the headboard this time.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Bucky groans, looking at the sight before him. “Christ, how am I not dreaming right now?” He kneads one ass cheek for a moment before he coats himself with more lube and lines up with Steve’s hole, already a bit red and swollen. “You ready, baby?”

Steve wiggles his ass in response. “Just waiting on you here.” He shoots a cocky grin over his shoulder that is quickly replaced by a moan when Bucky drives himself in to the hilt in one swift thrust. “ _Shit,”_ Steve curses as he buries his face in his arms.

Bucky plants one foot on the outside of Steve’s legs, next to his hip, and pulls himself in close with short, punishing thrusts that drive down into his prostate with each snap.

“ _Fucking hell sweet Jesus oh my god…oh god please, please, I can’t, oh fuck, oh Bucky, oh my god, fffuuuu….”_ Steve’s words trail off but his cries and whimpers and moans don’t, and he twists the sheets up and flails his arm but the angle is too perfect and Steve is already sensitive from his first orgasm and Bucky is determined to hold out—although that plan is looking tenuous at the moment—because he’s sure that anyone with all those oversized and battery-operated toys has got to be a fan of continued stimulation, and the sounds coming from Steve are far from pain but are very clearly pleasure.

“Yeah, come on baby, gonna make you feel so good, told you I’d take care of you.”

Steve comes with a cry, body trembling from head to toe as he goes boneless, voice shattered as he manages only a “ _Buh”_ when he tries to say Bucky’s name.

Bucky groans and drops his leg down, taking the pressure off of Steve’s prostate as he chases his orgasm, the sound of slapping skin and Steve’s broken cries filling the room. Steve turns his head to the side, sucks in a breath, and Bucky looks down, sees the flush on Steve’s cheeks, sees those lashes clumped together, sees the tears being squeezed out of those tightly closed lids, and it’s that sight that throws Bucky headlong off the cliff. He drives in once, twice more, and then he’s coming with a deep groan, falling forward as his cock pulses in the tight grip of Steve’s ass.

As soon as he’s able to move, he pulls out and Steve whimpers as he turns over. Bucky is on him in an instant, covering his body with his own, and Steve is clinging to him, hands buried in Bucky’s hair as he pulls him up. Bucky presses his lips to Steve’s cheeks, kisses away the tears, before Steve drags him in for a kiss.

“I love you—” Steve starts.

“I love you—” Bucky gasps.

Steve grins, and Bucky laughs softly as he peppers kisses over Steve’s face.

“You know, I was right, by the way,” he says, propped on one arm and using his free hand to brush back the hair clinging to Steve’s sweat-dampened forehead.

“About what?”

“You’re fucking _gorgeous_ when you cry.”

“You’re a jerk.”

“Did you mean it? Is it weird? Too soon?”

Steve’s face grows serious. “I did mean it. We’ve spent so much time together over the last two years, gotten to know each other—I mean, I know there’s some things we haven’t discussed, but… I love you, James Buchanan Barnes.”

Bucky groans and scrunches up his face. “Really? You’re gonna full name me on that? That’s not fair, I don’t know your middle name.”

“It’s Grant.”

“Well, then, Steven _Grant_ Rogers, I love you, too.” He kisses Steve lightly. “Now stay here. I’ll be right back. Gonna get rid of this and grab something to clean you up.”

***

Steve insisted that they needed to eat the dessert he made, so they pulled on their boxers and t-shirts and headed back downstairs. Bucky convinced him to sit on the couch at least, because it was clear that the man was sore, and now that they’ve finished, he’s pulled Steve on top of him and they’re reclined back together. Bucky trails two fingers in a lazy pattern up and down Steve’s back as they talk. They’ve been quiet for a while when Steve speaks again, voice growing soft and gravelly as he fights sleep.

“Tony—my ex—works for the government. Top secret kind of place that doesn’t really exist, you know? And, we didn’t have a prenup. My lawyer raked him over the coals. Not that he didn’t deserve it. But I got a lot—the house and a sizeable alimony, since I was still paying off huge loans for school and there was no way I could have maintained any kind of decent standard of living.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I just looked at a tiny studio apartment in the shittiest part of town because it was cheap and I’m thinking ahead about the loan payments. But I’m sorry to hear that your marriage ended so terribly. You’ve never really talked about him before.”

Steve shrugs. “Not really appropriate teacher-student conversation, you know? It started out great, of course, I wouldn’t have married him if I’d thought he was a bad person. He just… He’s a jarhead. Military special ops is the best explanation I can offer without breaking security. And the longer he was in, the more he started to think that since his missions were so dangerous and stressful, that entitled him to special privileges and allowances. Like me not caring about him sticking his dick into anyone who’d let him. I was young and idealistic when we got married, didn’t think we’d have problems even though we were following two very different career paths. But after nearly a decade of serial adultery…” Steve sighs. “Having to go get yourself tested in secret every time your husband left town because you never knew if he’d bring home something and pass it on is not a good way to live.”

“Oh, _Steve_.”

“I’ve moved past it.”

Bucky tightens his arms around Steve’s shoulders and kisses the top of his head.

“Speaking of moving…” Steve buries his face in Bucky’s chest and he takes a deep breath before he lifts his head to meet Bucky’s eyes. “If you want… The housing situation sucks around here, I know. The apartments are geared toward students or people with well-paying jobs. So… I have a guest room. You’re welcome to move in here, with me. I’d be more easily able to help you with teaching issues—”

Bucky tugs Steve up and into a kiss. “I can’t cook for shit, I’ll tell you that right now. We’ll starve if I’m left in charge of food. But I’m good at cleaning and yardwork.”

“Honey, I pay people for those things. All you need to do is look pretty and fuck me like that a few times a week and I’ll happily cook for you every night.”

Bucky laughs as he runs his fingers through Steve’s hair.

“I think I can manage that.”

**Author's Note:**

> View the accompanying Porn Mood Board here: [**"The Stucky Porn Look-alikes Archive: Chapter 14: Professor Steve x Grad Student Bucky"**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23690131/chapters/59213578)


End file.
